


I would follow you to the end of the earth with only mild complaining

by Sattar



Category: Neverwinter Nights
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sattar/pseuds/Sattar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perks of hair made of fire for wooing your distressed alchemist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for a tumblr prompt:)

_I would follow you to the end of the earth with only mild complaining_

“How am I supposed to work in these conditions? I know my extraordinary competence can trick people into thinking  I can perform miracles, but I assure you, it’s not true.”

Lal raised her eyes from her book to see an extremely irritated elf waving a long iron handle with a glass beaker clutched in it.

“How can you brew potions on open fire? They require precise temperature, and above all, stability that cannot be even closely achieved with campfire!”

Lal tried to hide a smile. She wanted to catch a little break while Casavir stopped producing agonizingly screeching noises by sharpening his sword, but oh well.

“Um, Sand, I know it sucks, but sadly, we couldn’t get a transferable alchemy lab in a wagon, even though, I assure you, it was my first priority while preparing for a murder trial. Allow some leniency. Maybe you can make potions that aren’t absolutely perfect, in a way that’s just a little wrong?”

The wizard somehow managed to fold his arms while still carrying a handle and without spilling whatever orange substance shimmered in the beaker.   

“Of course! I’ll prepare an antidote a little wrong, and then it’ll cure poisons a little wrong. Precisely speaking, it won’t work, but that’s just details not worthy of being noticed in our glorious leader’s brilliant planning, to be sure.”

“Maybe Bishop can build something up to protect fire from the wind?”

“Firstly, the current disposition of our dear reliable ranger is unknown. For all we can guess, his smell was probably mistaken by a local boar males for one of their own and now he could be battling them for dominance. And even if we do manage to locate him, I have my respectful doubts that Bishop is even capable of handling anything with the delicacy this case requires.”

Lal stopped trying to hide a smile. Instead, she sat into lotus position and asked.

“Okay, what temperature do you need?”

“Mmm, 120 degrees? What is even the point of a question which clearly…”

She breathed in and stilled herself. Being a fire genasi, she had hair that usually only visualized flames, but she could turn them into a real fire at will. Of course, keeping a stable temperature would require a severe discipline and concentration, but she wasn’t a Monk and a Sacred Fist for nothing.

“Use that,” she said serenely, gesturing to the fire upon her head, and enjoyed the view of Sand being surprised into a brief silence.

“I can’t exactly see how the shaking foundation instead of blowing wind is supposed to help with a stability.”

“I can keep still,” she answered. The fact that she didn’t explained that she could keep a mediation without moving for hours only proved her virtuous modesty.

Sand circled her warily, shuffled a bit behind her back and finally put a beaker over the fire. Several minutes passed and he still couldn’t recover enough to find something to complain about.

_Perhaps you can’t perform miracles, wizard,  but I just managed one, heh._

She sat completely still, not a muscle twitching. Jargal, Sand’s cat familiar, climbed up her knees determinedly and curled up. Lal smiled and stroked it’s fur without moving anything but her hand. All cats loved her. Well, they loved warm spots to sleep, and she was a personification of it with a side benefit of additional scratching behind the ears.   

“So, is fire up for your high workplace standards?”

“My workplace standards at this point are so low that Khelgar can stumble over them and not notice. But yes, this is… acceptable.  I am pleasantly surprised to suddenly find myself in conditions that allow me to do my work, even if without a table, so I have to mix everything in the air.”

“Oh, ease up with the flattery, Sand. “Acceptable.” I think I’m blushing.”

“Well, if there’s a chance…” the elf started, but one of the beakers that he was holding slipped off. Lal’s hand immediately darted and caught it without spilling a drop. Fire on her head didn’t waver for a second and she froze again, biting down a smirk in a complete silence. Jargal opened an eye, blinked lazily and headbutted her knee, demanding her to return to scratching.

“Ahhh,” Sand exhaled slowly, then got himself together and picked up a beaker from her hand. “I suppose it could compensate for some inconveniences.”

“I’m delighted that years of my spiritual  training finally paid off.”  

“Don’t sell yourself too short, dear girl, the quality of fire alone is quite impressive.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you didn’t like fire.”

“Hmm, isn’t it pleasant to find out your gracious leader thinks you’re a moron,” he sighed, “Fire is a useful tool, why would I dislike it? I don’t like idiots who can only use tools in the most blunt and unimaginative way possible.”

“Such as burning everything?”

“Indeed.”

“And you can think up much better things to do with fire, then?”

“I’d like to think so, yes.”

“Such as brewing potions, I suspect?”

He chuckled.

“And soups, occasionally.”

There was a pause as Lal considered the subject closed, when Sand said smoothly, with a barely noticeable smirk in his tone.

“Why, I am of a general opinion that truly imaginative mind comes up with new ideas depending on… unraveling perspectives.”

She felt her eyebrows creeping up.

“…such as?”

She heard him whisper a short cantrip and then she felt slender long fingers ran through her flaming hair. The unusual sensation sent shivers down her spine and made her jump up.

“Such as helping our glorious leader to see that she could indeed still be thrown off balance.”

She turned around to see the elf walk away with fire-resistance spell still shimmering on his hand and sparks from her hair dancing on his fingertips. Lal bit her lip.

_You arrogant tease…_

“Be careful, wizard, don’t you know that fire melts sand?”

“I choose to pretend this terrible pun never was uttered in my presence.”

“I won’t give you a choice on that!”

“Melting?”

“Puns!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the tumblr prompt: Lalochezia - The use of vulgar or foul language to relieve stress or pain.

“Ah! I’ll appreciate it greatly if you’ll stop setting me on fire while I try to tend to your ridiculously acquired wounds,” Sand said, jerking away from the fire.

“I’m sorry,” Lal said, blushing in the center of burned out circle. “It’s sort of reflexive response of fire genasi - to set things on fire when we’re distressed. I’ll try to concentrate.”

She shifted, trying to get into more comfortable and dignified position, which is hard when you sit on the ground with both of your legs outstretched in the air, because otherwise the spikes in them will get deeper. She took a deep breath and tried to reach for calmness and tranquility of meditation.

“Who tries to kick a dire-popcurine anyway?” Sand said, sitting down again. “These spikes have *hooks*!” Tranquility jumped few feet out of reach.

“I’m a monk,” Lal said through clenched teeth, trying to bait tranquility back. “That’s how we fight. Kicking things.”

“Ah, thank you for this enlightenment”, Sand said dryly, “I happened to hear some nonsense about spiritual journeys and inner balance, but turns out Khelgar was right all along. Monks are about kicking things.”

Tranquility threw one final sad glance at them and sailed rapidly over the horizon.

“Well, I’d watch *your* inner balance if you were ambushed by dire popcurine…” Lal started, but then Sand pulled a spike out of her left shin and at the sudden pain she burst into flames.

“I must insist!..” Sand bristled, dropping her shin.

“I’m sorry! I’m not doing it on purpose, either!”

“Well, it’s clear that your usual methods are not working! You should try something other than meditating into flames!”

“What, then? It’s the only way I know!”

“Try cursing. It usually helps people to relieve stress.”

“Um,” Lal blushed, deep red under her russet skin and pale rose in the fire on her head. “I don’t curse.”

Sand rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Daeghun will never found out.”

“No, I mean I just… don’t know how?”

“Surely you know the words. You talk with Bishop and Khelgar often enough.”

“Ugh, okay. I’ll try.”

She closed her eyes and said loudly

“Hell!”

“Do try to elaborate,” Sand said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Lal blushed brighter.

“Nine Hells!”

“It’s more of a statement of a fact than swearing. Add something personal.”

“Nine Hells and that one corner in the Docks near fish shop!”

“What?” Sand perked up, looking genueally bewildered.   

“Well, I personally find that place incredibly unpleasant. They throw here rotten fish and it *reeks*.”

Sand sighed, opened his mouth, then closed it, rubbed his temples and started again.

“Let’s try another angle, shall we? Cursing traditionally includes some sort of ill-wishing. Imagine someone you can’t stand and address it to them. I’d advise Qara or Torio for inspiration.”

“They are our allies, it’s kinda offensive.”

“Their whole existence is offensive, so it’s only fair.”

“Pfft, sand, don’t be mean. Black Garius will do.”

“As you wish. Feel free to start at any moment.”

“I know, I know… May your life be as meaninglessly shivering and cowardly pathetic as a noble dame’s lapdog!”

“Well, that’s closer. Perhaps try something, ah… less existential?”

“I hope you get humped by a dire popcurine!”

“Very good, that one certainly had a lot of feeling. Try adding name-calling.”

“You slimy piece of Luskan embarrassment, I will make you eat Deekin’s scorpions on a stick for the rest of your life! *With* sticks!”

“Okay that was successful, I already pulled out three spikes, so go on.”

“I will undo that ugly skeleton that you hide under this gawkish robes, you sorry parody of an undead, and shove your skull in-between your hip-bones!”

“That was a little clunky, but keep it up, dear girl.”

“I hope your cat sheds all over your precious ingredients, you insensitive haughty tease!”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Pardon me?” Sand said, lifting an eyebrow. Lal’s fire-hair turned into mortified magenta.

“What? It’s nothing! I didn’t mean anything! It’s completely random!”

“If you say so…” the elf started, his wide grin spreading, and that’s when Lal burst into flames again. 


End file.
